Project Vigilant Eagle Investigation
by Emeraldegg
Summary: Evaluation of the serial murders in Happy Tree Town, Special FBI Agent P.F.I, or 'Fi-Fi', as her alias is, investigates the strange case of a troubled, but well-meaning war vet, and ends up getting much more involved than she should. Rated just in case.
1. Chapter 1

Private Federal Bureau of Investigation Agent, P.F.I.

Project: Vigilant Eagle Investigation; V.E.I

**Day 1 of Evaluating the Situation of Local Serial Killer, Flippy McClane.**

_This is a personal, secret investigation of a local murderer, First name Flippy, last name McClane.(*) Current Data: Two recent victims accounting of the event in which they were killed, one interview each. Each has promised to send in any information regarding new murders, victims, or any general strange behavior. Victims: Giggles and Cuddles, bear and rabbit._

Me: Alright, Giggles, take a seat. You are here to detail your encounter with a Mr. Flippy McClane, is that right?

Giggles: Umm, yes.

Me: Heh, don't worry, relax! I just have to go through formalities. Ok, you understand that everything you say in this room today can and will be used as evidence in a court of law?

Giggles: Uhh, umm, yes, I guess so. Heehee.

Me: Alright, now in your own words, can you describe the encounter as it occured?

Giggles: Ok. Me and Cuddles were at the Burger shop and-

Me: Sorry, Giggles, but can you specify the name of the restaurant?

Giggles: Sorry, I can't remember. Anyway, we both had a burger, me n' Cuddles-

Me, whispering: _Cuddles and I..._

Giggles: Cuddles had a drink, and we were sharing a big plate of fries. He went to put some ketchup on it, but he accidentally squirted it all over me.

Me: Did you react to that? Did you yell, or do anything that might be upsetting to someone else?

Giggles: Oh, no! I thought it was cute! We both started laughing. That's is when Flippy opened the door-

Me: Giggles, can you tell me how he looked?

Giggles: What do you mean? Like, how was he dressed?

Me: Well, that too, but did he look angry? Was he unkempt?

Giggles: Well, no actually, he looked happy. He was smiling. He was his normal sweet self. He was wearing his camo jacket, dogtags, and his beret.

Me: Normal sweet self? Can you explain a bit more on that?

Giggles: Well, when he isn't going crazy, he is actually one of the nicest, sweetest people I know. I can't imagine a bigger contrast between two people than him and his... Flipped self.

Me: That's very odd, isn't it? Quite curious indeed, that he should hold the capacity for such striking, different personalities in one...

Giggles: Is there anything else?

Me: Oh, I'm sorry, my dear, I was rambling to myself. Yes, I need to know what happened after that.

Giggles: Alright, he glanced around the room, and then saw me, and suddenly got this shocked look on his face. It was like he had seen a ghost. He started whimpering.

Me: Hmm, curious indeed. Go on.

Giggles: Well, then his eyes got really small, and the shock started to turn into... rage. He started growling, and he got little green irises. Cuddles didn't really see him, he was just drinking his soda, I think it was a Dr. peter, or maybe he got Sprine... Hmm, now that I think about it, I don't remember him ordering that. Did Petunia give him that for free? I wonder-

Me, sternly: Giggles, focus now, I must know - what happened?

Giggles: Oh, hee hee, sorry, right. Well, Cuddles was drinking on his - Oh yeah! It was a Sweet tea. Anyway, drinking that, and Flippy just frontflipped over, out of nowhere, and flung the table into the wall. Cuddles didn't really get what was going on, he just kinda looked at Flippy, drinking away, and Flippy grabbed his straw from him. Then, he... Well, he... He kinda... Stabbed Cuddles with it. In the neck. Then Cuddles started screaming.

Me: Oh? And how did Flippy look when he watched Cuddles screaming?

Giggles: Well he... Hmm, I just realized, I don't know! I was paying attention to Cuddles the whole time. Sorry.

Me: That's ok, Giggles, just tell us what you do know.

Giggles: Ugh, Cuddles was terrified at losing that much blood, so he figured - ugh - he figured that if he drank it, it would be going back into his body. Of course, that didn't work. he got real pale, and bled to death. I was screaming by then, and I looked for Flippy, but he was gone. No, not gone, hidden. I looked up finally, and at the same time I saw him hanging above me, he stuck the ketchup and mustard bottles into my ears. Then he squeezed, and the force blew out a lot of parts of my head, causing the stuff to come out my nose. And- and-

Me: That's alright, Giggles, you don't need to go any further. Can I assume that about when you died?

Giggles: Yeah, but Petunia was still alive after I died, wasn't she?

Me: Ahh, yes, but unfortunately, she was not available for comment. Apparently, that was one of her more traumatizing and gruesome deaths. I think we've go everything from you and Cuddles, thank you.

Giggles: No problem! I'll be keeping a lookout for Flippy going crazy!

Me: Alright, go ahead and turn off the recorder, I think we've-

This recording was taken on the week before I started my pursuit and analyzation.

Flippy's actions today, 12 hour clock:

1 am - 6 am

Sleeping

6 am - 6:45 am

Ate breakfast

6:45 am - 7am

Shower

7 am - 11 am

Work out:

Treadmill

Punching bag

Barbell Incline Bench Press - 12 Reps

Jump Rope

BenchPress

Dips

Weight Training

11 am - 4 pm

Jobhunting on foot: Sent in application to:

Local Hard-Hat Construction Center ( Manager threw away application after Flippy left)

McDannies ( Turned out to be the burger place Flippy killed Cuddles and Giggles at)

8-12 Convenience Store

Clam Gas-station

Local traveling carnival

4 pm - 4:30 pm

Stayed in room with curtains closed: Unspecified activity

4:30 pm - 11 pm

Came out of room, was wearing band T-shirt for KoRn, dog tags, beret, jacket wrapped around waist. Left the house, walked on foot for two hours, about 9 miles, to an outdoor concert.

Bands:

KoRn

Disturbed

Slipknot

System Of A Down

Drowning Pool

Queens of the Stone Age

Nine Inch Nails

Rage Against the Machine

Marilyn Manson

A Perfect Circle

Rob Zombie

11 pm - Midnight

Walking Home, procured a stick, cloth, and a few belongings from somewhere.

Daily Appraisal:

Flippy did not kill or 'flip out' the entire day. He ended the night still walking home. The loud hard rock music seemed an iffy idea, but surprisingly, although Flippy entered the mosh pit, battering and being battered, he did not seem any more violent than anyone else at the concert. Possibilities: It was a coincidence that he did not flip, or possibly, 'Evil' Flippy was lulled by the music, or enjoyed it, and did not feel the need to be violent. It could be that the music was something Flippy liked before the war, or perhaps it is a general stress - reliever. Other options to consider- Flippy could get a radio or CD player at home.

**Day 2 of evaluation:**

1 am - 1:45 am

Walked, found Cuddles, Giggles, and Flaky having a camp-out, and was invited to join. By now, the camo jacket was back on, all evidence of concert gone. He smiled, dropped the stick, and sat next to the fire, warming his hands. All seems well, until the fire pops out at him, causing him to gasp and cower a bit. Then, he seems to really notice the fire for the first time. He whimpers pitifully, and then begins growling, much like Cuddles and Giggles described. What ensued was slaughter. 'Evil' Flippy shrieked an ungodly sound and threw himself across the fire, smashing Cuddles in the face with a large rock, splattering Giggles with blood.

She, of course, screamed, although 'Evil' took no notice of it. He was grinning, quite horribly so, and went back over to Cuddles, swiftly ripping his stomach open. He reached in, pulling his entrails out and pulled them around Giggles' neck, repeatedly choking and effectively killing her. Only now does Flaky take notice of what's going on, and retreats in terror to her sleeping bag, zipping it up, hoping to go unnoticed or be forgotten. Unfortunately, she had no such luck. Evil picked her up, bag and all, and tossed her onto the flame. Evil laughed with psychotic glee at her piercing shrieks, roasting a marshmallow on the heat from her burning body.

1:45 am - 2:00 am

Flippy finally took control again, to stare in shock at the bloody scene before him. Flaky was still screaming, but although Flippy pulled out her sleeping bag from the fire, trying in vein to open it, she was far beyond any help. Wincing, he decided to spare her the pain of a slow death, and reached down, striking the back of her neck, breaking it. She went still and silent. Flippy's eyes filled with tears, looking around, and he sat on the ground, beginning to cry. He leaned over, pounding his head with his fists, angrily.

2:00 am - 6:00 am

Flippy slowly walked home.

6 am - 4 pm

Sleeping.

4 pm - 4:30 pm

Flippy woke up, went to his desk and chair, and sat down. He stared for a long time at a straight razor, sitting on his desk. There was nothing else on the desk. He drew himself up, and pulled of his jacket. I see now that his stomach and back have long, deep scars, and it seems safe to assume where the majority of them have come from. He picks up the blade, and stares at it. Then, he draws it across his chest, one shoulder to the other, and blood begins to drip straight down from the wound. Then, he plunges the razor into his neck.

Daily Appraisal:

Three deaths, suicide. The fire is a trigger, and was incorporated into the murder. 'Evil' is just as he was described, ruthless, cold, and gleeful in his murder. Will take a break until Flippy, Giggles, Cuddles, and Flaky have all come back, and will continue. End of day 2.

**This is chapter one of a very unusual Flippy story! :D :D**

**http://aven-cloudchaser. deviantart. com/art/P-F-I-Htf-oc-129633937**


	2. Chapter 2

**Day 5 of Evaluation.**

Another interview with Giggles, Cuddles, and Flaky. They all confirmed what I saw. None of them are much worse for wear, as is the usual custom of Happy Tree Town, except Flaky seemed a nervous wreck. Will refer her to a good psychiatrist. Yesterday, I was unable to write my report, as I was hiding. From now on, I will list only the important events of each day in my official report. In my private report, which I will hand in on the final day, along with all my data, I will have everything.

Yesterday, there was an event of some importance.

A moose, who at this time was not willing to give out information, that we will call Mr. Horn, went deaf yesterday. he lives next door to Flippy, and played his television loud enough to wake Flippy up from a dream, screaming. It set him off, the usual mix of whimper-then-growling, and his pupils dilated and finally contracted, growing yellow irises. This keeps up with previous accounts. He went to Mr. M's house with an axe, first knocking on the door and ringing the doorbell. Behavior seemed almost childlike in his impatience. When a deaf Mr. M did not answer, 'Evil' threw down his axe, shaking uncontrollably with seeming anticipation and impatience, and went to find another way to get in.

Somehow, he managed to create a large swing for a tree trunk, which swung into Mr. M's home. Unfortunately for Flippy, but fortunately for the moose himself, Mr. M bent over at exactly the right moment to avoid being smashed. A now-exhausted Evil Flippy, or otherwise known as 'Flipqy', rests on hands and knees at the place he swung the branch, panting, and gets hit by the same trunk swinging back at him, flying out of my view. Mr. M comes out of the house on a bike. By the time I catch up with Evil, he is in a helicopter, from where he procured it, I can't imagine.

But the dissociative personality seemed to have a breakthrough in realizing his own self - destructive behavior. He seemed to realize that by killing Mr. M, he would be simply reenacting the abuse he himself had received. The mental abuse was symbolized in his dreams as being on a unicorn, the symbol of innocence, and being chopped up by a helicopter blade. He then subconsciously, after having forgotten the dream, and after 'Flipping out', ( I.E. inducing a state of disassociation), chose a helicopter to kill Mr. M with. Apparently, he also hallucinated Mr. M being 'Good Flippy,' or his real self. This shows a rather obvious form of dealing with abuse. Rather than being introverted with his pain, and injuring himself on purpose, he reenacts the hurt onto someone else.

"Types of reenactment these individuals engage in may include (a) behavioral (i.e., inflicting harm to self or others), (b) self destructiveness (i.e., subconsciously sabotaging situations such that it leads to feelings of revictimization), and (c) reexeperiencing (flashbacks)."

Then, seemingly unable to deal with this, he 'flipped back', giving total control back to his real self, who tried desperately to pull the helicopter up, ending in a violent crash in a nearby tree. He came out unharmed, but the tail of the helicopter came around, slicing him. It was a rather gruesome sight.

It is sad that such a textbook case of trauma-cycles should go un-noticed, and without any help. I will continue to investigate the rather tragic case of a green army bear we all know and love, as Flippy.

Today, nothing of importance. More job hunting, bought a pickup truck. No deaths.

**Day 9 of Evaluation**

The past few days, unfortunately, I could not record, because I was dead. I was killed by Flippy while undercover. Here are the details:

Flippy, as we know, has been job-hunting, and I went to the one place he had gotten a call-back from, which turned out to be the burger place. I had my badge in my pocket and I left my hat in the car, which I have now lost. I arrived about twenty minutes before he did, so that I could watch everything. Unfortunately, I got much more involved than was necessary. He came in, smiling, and walked up to an employee, a "Toothy," and spoke to him for a moment. Apparently, the manager was not there yet. Looking a bit disappointed, Flippy ordered a coke and sat down at a table next to me. I, wanting to make an acquaintance with him, make him comfortable with me, went over to introduce myself. The conversation, possibly paraphrased a bit, goes as follows:

Me: Hello!

Flippy: Oh, hi.

His voice was rather high pitched, and extremely friendly. I felt absurdly comfortable with him. His smile widened when he saw me.

Me: I'm Fi-Fi, I'm new in town.

Flippy: Oh, it's nice to meet you! I'm Flippy.

Me: Well, it's certainly nice to meet you, Flippy! I-

I didn't get any further than that, because just then, the manager came in, with a clipboard in his hand. It turned out to be Mr. M. He stumbled over a chair, the clipboard flying from his hands, and hit me in the face, causing my nose to bleed. I winced, glancing at Flippy. He started to say, "Are you okay?", but then saw the blood on my face, and began to twitch. The usual signs, whining quietly, then growling, except this time, his face was not a mask of anger, it was a devious grin which was much more terrible. He chuckled darkly, and asked in a low voice, " Well, what do we have here? Hehe, who's this tasty little cunt?" Before I could say anything, he grabbed my waist and licked me openly on the cheek, tasting my blood. He shuddered deeply with apparent pleasure, and bit hard into my jugular, and after that, of course, I bled to death quickly.

It took four days for me to recover. As for what happened in between, I only have the accounts of Cuddles, Giggles, Flaky, and now, Lumpy, our 'Mr. M', who has agreed to help me in the investigation. Apparently, Evil dropped my body, losing interest, after I died, and grabbed the clipboard. He threw it like a chinese throwing star at Lumpy, hitting him in the head, knocking him out. Then he ran over to the moose, ripping off a horn. He bludgeoned the rest of the customers and employees to death with it, except Flaky, watching from outside. He flipped back whenever he burnt his arm on a stove, seeming to be on purpose.

Flaky said he screamed incoherence when he saw what he had done, and punched a wall, leaving a large hole. She said that he seemed particularly mournful over my own body, murmuring something along the lines of, " She didn't even do anything, she just got here, and she'll already hate me...'' Flaky said that he buried me outside his home, and that is where I woke up, on the ground above where I was buried. Since then, there have been no deaths, as Flippy has not left his home.

Flaky and the the other happy tree friends seem to be worried about him. Since I have a degree in psychology and psychiatry, I feel like it is my responsibility to go talk him down, bring him out of his shell again. it may not be practical, and it may be beyond the call of duty, but I'm going in.

**R&R, amigos! :D**

http://aven-cloudchaser. deviantart. com/art/P-F-I-Htf-oc-129633937


	3. Chapter 3

**Day 10 of evaluation**

Today, I went to Flippy's home. I'm still alive, by the grace of God. This is how it went:

I arrived in the front drive in my car, and saw that his house was locked down. His house is a quonset hut, but metal bars now decorate the windows and doors, locking us out, or himself in, I wonder? I walk up to one window, and see a bright light in total darkness through blinds, but I can't see anything else. I go to the door, and knock. No movements from the house. I ring the doorbell, and hear a pained groan from inside, and the a horrible giggle. I pulled out my recorder to talk into, in case I ended up dead again. I walk around the house a couple times, trying to find a way in, and finally find a window that has a broken bar.

I break the other ones, and pull the metal off the hinges, open the window, and crawl in. I fall onto the floor, and into darkness. I quickly close the window, so that I would not be noticed. I notice then, that the floor is sticky. Something red splattered over my clothes and fur when I fell, and I have to assume it is blood.

I hear, suddenly, a shreik of pain, and a low giggle. Evil must have somebody in here, and is probably torturing them. The screams sound like Giggles. I follow the sounds of the screams, using my training in the FBI to keep quiet. I reach a room which is dimly lit, the only light in the house. It's so dark everywhere else that my eyes tke a few moments to adjust. What I see is a makeshift torture chamber.

Finally, a scream much worse than before, and retreating, dark giggling. When the giggling was so far away that I could not hear anything, I rushed into the room unseen. I couldn't see who it was, but someone was chained to two wooden poles, and seemed to have smoke coming off of them. Probably, Evil had been branding them. I came up behind them, and put my hand over their mouth, coming into their view. I started to say something reassuring, but I realized that it was not Giggles on the pole.

It was Flippy. Then, who is torturing him?

His eyes got wide with fear and confusion, and he began screaming into my hand. I put a finger to my lips, and he quieted down, nodding his head fearfully. I pulled my hand away, and before I could say anything, he whispered vehemently, " What are you doing here!? You have to get out! Before he- Oh no, he's coming!" Cried Flippy, terror as I had never seen in his eyes, which he squeezed shut, as if already expecting a blow.

I whisper impatiently, " Who, Flippy? Who is it?! WHO!?" But he's too far gone already.

I jump behind a plant, and glance back over at them, out of sight. And I can't put this any other way, and I will probably be discredited and fired for putting this down, but I have to put it down as I see it. The person terrorizing Flippy was his darker side. Evil. He was standing in front of him. I recorded their conversation and will write down what was on the tape. Evil puts a thick wire into a fire, and leaves it there.

Evil: Well, how are you, ma' cherie?

Flippy: You know godamned well how I am, you hellspawn!

Evil, laughing: Oh, getting a bit testy there, aren't you, pet? Come on, don't be like that! You know you like the pain. Freaks like you always do.

Flippy: That isn't true! I'm not a freak! I-

Evil pulled out the wire suddenly, and shoved it into Flippy's eye, causing him to scream so loud that the recorder only got a gritty roar. His eye squirts blood with a sickening squelch, and ridiculous amounts of blood pour from his eye.

Evil: Oh, your little cunt of a girlfriend came after you, and now you've got the idea you can have a normal life? Well, what does she think about when you ripped her fucking throat out?

Flippy: That was you!

Evil: But it's your fingerprints on the scene of the crime, eh, kitten?

Flippy hung his head.

Evil, laughing insanely: Isn't it wonderful? But let me tell you something. You get too involved wth the cunt, and we are going to have a long, loooong discussion with the dissection table over here, alright? And she and I will have a conversation too, I'll teach her a lesson she won't soon forget.

Flippy: You stay away from her, you freak! You have no right! She isn't involved!

Evil grins: Ohh, you have a thing for her, huh? Well, now I'll tell you the whole plan, I'm sure you'll be interested!: (He got right in Flippy's face, in a low voice, said,) : I am going to fuck her, get it? I'll fuck her so hard her legs break, like a toy doll, rip her a new asshole, and put my dick down her throat. Then I'll throw her in a landfill outside of town, and then see who finds her first - a hobo, or rats? I'll tie you to a post and make you watch while she gets eaten alive, barely alive, by scavengers. And she won't come back. Capeche? Stay away from the little whore.

Suddenly, Evil looked up: That's your warning, you tasty little fuck! You want that? I'll let you two alone now, and if you come back....

He didn't have to finish. Evil left the house by breaking through the bars on a door with ease, and strolling out, covered in blood.

I rush over to Flippy, barely concious. He looks up at me with glazed eyes, and suddenly they clear, turning bright and hard with fear, and he cried urgently, if a tad incoherently, drunk with pain, " What the hell are you doing here?! Do you want to die? Get out, for your own sake!"

Without paying attention to what he said, I began untying him. As soon as his hands are free, he grabs my shoulder, staring into my eyes, shaking slightly, his grip weaker than normal. He shook me a little, staring hard into my eyes, and then suddenly, exhaustion went into his face before he could even say anything, and he crumpled, passing out into my arms.

I drag him over to the couch, which I find only by feeling my way around, and go to look for the lights. I find one big switch that turns on a long row of flourescent lights, one at a time, like a prison. The house, I see now, is splashed with blood, everywhere, and on the wall is a chilling message, in blood, naturally:

KiLl the CUNT

I wince, and hurry on. I see, unfortunately, that it is not just written on one wall, either. Most of the blood appears to be flippy's, but when i go tino the kitchen, Giggles, Cuddles, and Lumpy are killed in various creative ways, splayed all over the floor. Finally, I find a first aid kit, miraculously stored in a place where it, unlike everything else in my view, is not destroyed/burned/smashed etc.

I rush back to Flippy, now awake on the couch, struggling to light a cigarette. I take the lighter from him, and light it, taking a drag before handing it back to him, eliciting a chuckle from the battered bear. The eyelids of his ruined eye are closed, sinking in sickeningly. Blood ran sickly down his face, dripping wetly onto his jacket. He didn't take notice.

While he puffed his cigarette, I managed as well as I could with cleaning up his wounds. The most I could do for his eye was to wrap it tightly with gauze. As for his burns, I'm worried sick that he might be getting an infection. They were absolutely third degree. The skin was charred and white, all the layers of skin were affected. Those thin lines of burnt skin are probably the worst burns I have ever seen. I got a few bucket of cold water to pour on the burns, patted them dry, and wrapped them. I thought I was lucky he had a first aid kit with so much extra in it, but then, looking back, I realize he was used to these kinds of encounters.

I nearly told him the truth about who I was. I did not, but I have to be careful. He asked me my name. We stared for a long time, since we both knew I had already given him a name. He knows something. I don't know what, exactly, but he knows something. Maybe just suspects. I told him again that my name was Fifi, and made a joke about how he must have forgotten. He did not smile.

He sighed, and layed back, and died. I know he will be back in a few days, but... I buried him, and left flowers at his grave. I will resume when he has come back alive, and I am going to do some tests on him. That might not be the best move for seeming just like an observer, but I can't stand at the sidelines anymore. This investigation is getting personal. I am actually feeling guilty for lying to him. But I have to keep my chin up. Having personal feelings get involved in a case is one of the first lessons a rookie learns not to do.

But my heart is getting way too into this. He's just a case. Just a number.

Just a statistic.

This is private investigator, code name P.F.I, signing off for now.


	4. Chapter 4

**Day 14**

Finally, Flippy is back. It's hard to believe it has already been two weeks since I started this project. Yesterday, I got a little apartment near Flippy's home. It looks rather bare, but it beats sleeping in the woods, somewhat. I haven't been sleeping well recently, and I was hoping a real bed might solve my problem, but unfortunately, now that my thoughts are not consumed with fear of drifters and vagrants, I cannot get my case out of my head. I refuse to say that I cannot get Flippy out of my head.

Today, I went to Flippy's too see if he has come back yet, and I found his home back in order, bars gone, lights on. I knocked on the door, and nobody answered, although the door swung open. I hesitated, finally calling out, " Hello?" and faintly, I heard a confused, "Come in..."

I step inside, and see him on his couch, a razor in his hand, blood dripping down his arm. He's shaking on the couch, swaying forward and back like a child, rocking and rocking.

There are dark circles under his eyes, he's unshaven, and his eye's are bloodshot. I think he may be on drugs. His face seems drawn in, and his dogtags are stained with blood. He missed a button when putting on his jacket, and he's a general trainwreck.

He murmured," Oh, um, come in..." His voice sounded thick and gruff, was a bit slurred, and he sounded confused, like every sentence was a question. Somehow, he seemed scared of me, and I felt pity for this poor pathetic stoned bear. His house was lit with only a few lamps, and so was very dim.

I come over cautiously, and say, "Flippy?" He doesn't respond. I snap my fingers in front of his glazing eyes - "Flippy!"

Startled, he looks over at me, but his movements are sluggish.

Trembling, I ask him, " Flippy? Do - do you know where you are?"

He stares at me for a long moment, and I feel terribly afraid that he doesn't, but he slowly nods his head, looking around, mouthing, " My home."

Somewhat relieved, I sit down on the couch, looking at his open wounds. They didn't seem too deep, and he had not, as I had first been afraid, hit any veins. He was going to live. I hurried to get the first aid kit, but when he saw it, he grimaced and pushed it away, opting to rip a shred of his shirt off, wrapping his arms tightly. Apparently, he had that much under control.

A quick glance at the coffee table confirmed my thoughts - Pot and heroin were messily scattered across the surface, along with bottles of jack daniels. I wondered briefly if I should warn him that mixing drugs and alchohol could kill him, or make him kill himself, but I decided against it, remembering that I wasn't in the regular world anymore. Nobody stayed dead in Happy Tree Town.

I want to take him home with me, make everything better. I hate being so helpless. With all my influence, connections with the US government, there was nothing I could do. I also began to regret coming, I couldn't really get anything out of him when he was so far into shock, and probably high, but I figured I might as well get data any time I could. He went and poured himself a shot, and held the bottle up to me, questioning silently. I shook my head, and he poured himself another. I didn't say anything, deciding to allow him to drown his sorrow.

Then, he stood up way too fast, asking nervously, " D-do you want some coffee, I can get you some coffee, if you want some, because I have some, he didn't take it from me." He babbled, talking too fast, too incoherent. I was fighting myself to keep my cool and not get swept away in his anxiety - fear and paranoia is disturbingly infectious.

I said calmly, " Yes, please, cream, no sugar is fine, thanks." He nodded his head, and his beret, which was on sideways, nearly falling off, and he began toward the kitchen. I glance around, and see the wooden poles are now splintered piles of wood on the ground, and a baseball bat was off to the side. Obviously, Flippy had been very high, and not liked those things in his house, opting to beat the shit out of them rather than throw them away. Drugs always make for very emotional moments. Also, the words which, I'll admit, had haunted me for quite awhile now, were washed away, and replaced with childish scribbles, as follows:

Wrong

Murder is Wrong

You are crazy

I am not

You are crazy

You are crazy

Crazy

Crazy

Crazy

Crazy Crazy Crazy

I am sane.

No love.

No happiness.

No hope.

No faith.

You're to blame, I am sane.

Sane

Sane

Sane

Sane Sane Sane Sane Sane Sane Sane SaneSaneSANESANESANESANESANE**SANESANESANESANESANESANE**

**SANESANESANESANESANESANESANESANESANE**

**SANESANESANESANESANESANESANE**

It keeps going like that for awhile, written in black marker, and it goes pretty far along his wall, down below the chair-line. He was probably high when he wrote it.

Hopefully.

He came back with a cup in his hand, and saw me crouching next to the psychotic, nightmarish walls, bloodstains not fully faded, and winced. He twitched a bit, and mumbled something like, " Oh, don't worry about that, it's nothing..."

I get up, and join him again on the couch. Our conversation goes as follows:

Me: Flippy, I'm worried about you.

Flippy: Don't be, everything is under control. You shouldn't even be here, if he comes back, God, if he comes back, I swear, I swear, God, I-

Me: Flippy, calm down! Ok? Everything is going to be okay, now you have to calm down.

Flippy: Okay, okay, I just... Ohhhh God, you don't understand, you don't _know _him like I do, because I...I... He's...he's...(Flippy starts crying now)

Me: Now Flippy, calm down, okay? Just calm down. Nobody but you and me is here right now, understand? Just you and me. Now, I want you to do something for me, ok-

Flippy: Yeah, yeah, right right, alright, okay. I'm sorry, okay, alright.

Me: -ay? Now, I want you to look at a couple of pictures, and tell me what you see, alright?

Flippy: I've had those tests before, they don't work, please don't make me go back to the center, I don't want to-

Me: Flippy, please! You have to calm down! Okay, now what does this look like?

Flippy peered into the inkblot, and said quietly, not looking at me," It's a face."

I show him the next one.

" It looks like a continent.... A little like Asia."

Next.

" It looks like eyes. Mean, dark eyes."

Next.

This time, he chuckled, saying, "Roadkill."

Next.

"It looks like a lion ripping open the chest of a... um, whaddya call it, not a deer, umm, ummm.... Dammit, a uhh... oh, a gazelle."

Next.

" A couple of evil gnomes. They're telling each other secrets."

Next.

He looked at it, and looked away, hesitation in his face.

I prod him, " Flippy, what do you see?"

" Look, I don't want to keep doing this, okay? I think this is pointle-"

"_What do you see_?"

He glares at me, and looks away, responding resignedly, tonelessly, " It's _Him_."

Evil. It got quiet, and I put away the papers.

Me"Alright, let's do something else. How about word association?"

Flippy"Whatever."

Me"Okay, family."

Flippy"Alone."

Me"Freedom."

Flippy"Revenge."

Me"Sex."

Flippy"Rape."

Me"Murder."

Flippy"Regret."

Me"Violence."

Flippy"Guilt."

Me"Failure."

Flippy"Life."

Me"Money."

Flippy"Smug."

Me"Trauma."

Flippy"Children."

Me"Innocence."

Flippy"Rage."

Me"Walls."

Flippy"Outdoors."

Me"Submission."

Flippy" Never."

Me"Dominance."

Flippy"Evil."

Me"Drugs."

Flippy"Pleasure."

Me"Pain."

Flippy"Relief."

Me"Religion."

Flippy"Bullshit."

Me"Scars."

Flippy" Proof."

"Alright, Flippy, that was good. I'm glad you aren't shutting me out. I'm going to come back tomorrow, and we are going to do some more tests, ok? But I can't have you high, alright?" I say gently.

Flippy jumps a bit, as if I guessed his terrible secret, but then nods his head miserably, deciding not to lie.

"And... I don't want to see you hurting yourself. People care about you, and it hurts them, too, you know?"

He stares at me in awe for a moment, and then I see a flash of anger, and he said accusingly, " I wouldn't have to if _HE _didn't make me need to! And he wouldn't be here if you would just give up! Forget about me! Get out!" He shrieked, and then began sobbing, and I could hear faintly, " I'm sorry, okay? I'm _SORRY, _he's just, I can't take him anymore! I'm sorry... I'm sorry... I'm sorry, sorry, I'm sorry..."

I get up, and, hesitating, I hug him, although I don't know if he even noticed. I know that there is nothing I can do to help him right now, but I feel like a traitor as I leave. There was really nothing to be gained by me staying, except exciting and further torturing him.

But still, I... I can't understand it, it's like something further than what I am used to with the patient-to-therapist relationship I am used to...


	5. Chapter 5

**Day 15**

I'm strangely excited about returning to Flippy's house today. I hurry up to the door, knocking far too many times, betraying my own excitement. He answers as if he was waiting right inside the door. Today, he is cleanshaven, freshly showered, hygenic, and looked perfectly normal. He didn't smell of alchohol or drugs, and it felt strangely sweet that he would clean up just for me, even though I knew, deep down, that he probably just felt ashamed at being caught so... disheveled, yesterday. At least, that's what the books would tell me. But, it seems special somehow, different.... It pains me that with all my years of learning psychology, I couldn't even figure that much out.

He smiles, taking my hands in his in a gesture of greeting, shaking them, and my cheeks flame, mortifyingly enough. I smile back, hoping to bring the focus off my red tint, and he invites me in. Music blasts in the background, a song by a band I don't know, that I'm afraid to know. I could hear faint lyrics:

_Deep Inside_

_It can hide!_

_Feeling so lost and betrayed_

_why does this happen to me everytime_

_Stuck in this place, where I can't escape_

_Screaming and clawing from deep inside_

_Why won't it fade_

_Outside I had to lie; "I'm ok",_

_I hope someday, I'll stop getting pain_

_I guess this is a lie, I have made_

I glance at the stereo as I come in, and he takes notice. "Oh, did you want me to turn that off?"

I realize I should say yes, but for some reason, I smile and shake my head, saying, " No, it's fine." We come over to the couch again, and I glance around in amazement. His house looks wonderful. Even the deepest of the bloodstains had been washed away, and there was no trace of the dimly lit, bloody nightmare I had first encountered. He stands up, and says," I'm going to go get some coffee, do you want some?" Just like yesterday, yet somehow different.

I smile, and say, " Oh, yes please, I'd love some with cream, no sugar." As he leaves the room, the music, again, pushes itself into my head, keeping me from thinking of anything else:

_I keep asking what's your lie?_

_It is disturbing, it squeezes mine._

_Days keep passing, one notch at a time._

_I don't feel right. Please God let me sleep tonight._

_Want to give it up but I can't escape._

_I keep asking, can you please try._

_It is haunting, this tin stole mine._

_Days keep passing, line after line._

_I don't feel right. Please God don't let me die tonight._

_Die tonight..._

I shiver slightly at the disturbing lyrics, but strangely, it was a pleasant shiver, pleasant fear. That seems unhealthy, but it didn't feel unhealthy. I glance around again, seeing that the wooden poles are gone. The only thing that remains of Flippy's short dark period is the words on the wall, mostly washed away, but I can still see, faintly:

You're to blame, I am sane.

Sane

Sane

Sane

Flippy finally comes back, holding two mugs, one of them a grinning Elvis face, the other one with a picture of a soldier, holding a tin mug, with the words,

_How About A_

_Nice Cup of_

_Shut the Fuck Up_

above his head. I couldn't help laughing, and Flippy glanced at me quizzically. I say, trying to stifle laughter, and failing, " It's - haha - it's your - hahaha, - your mug, your mug is hilarious!" I finish, laughing helplessly, clutching my stomach, pointing at the mug. Surprised, he turned the mug toward him, and grinned, saying " Oh, damn! I didn't even realize I grabbed that one! Haha, love this mug!" He laughs along with me, and hands me the mug that cracked me up. I grin back, and we toast, saying, " To shutting the fuck up!", cheerfully, and drink.

_Lady life.... don't you cry...._

_My life... pain is God._

_Many nights... painful thoughts of her_

_Yell at me.... again I'm wrong._

_In denial, I tried to be your friend_

_I tried to be a good boy_

_All I see, a hate deep inside_

_Startle me, someone save me_

_NOOOOOW, these memoRIIIES, fill my HEEEART, they BURY ME_

The music seems like it should ruin the cheerful mood, but instead, it simply makes it more comfortable. It seems strangely natural to be here with Flippy, in his crazy quonset hut, listening to demented music, drinking coffee, and laughing together. I've never felt more comfortable with anyone, than I have with him.

_All I wanna do!_

_(You are not my real mother)_

_Is kill you_

_(Should I beat and stab and fuck her?)_

_All I wanna do!_

_(You are not my real mother)_

_Is kill you_

_(Should I beat and stab and fuck her?)_

He glanced at his stereo, sighing. Fondly, he murmured, " I think sometimes, if I didn't have corn, I couldn't keep gong on living."

I couldn't help staring. Corn?

Suddenly, he glanced at me, and started laughing. "Not the food, it's a band, with a K and a backwards R."

"KoRn? Hmmm... Interesting. The music sounds very emotional."

"That's metal for ya! Or maybe, that's Jon for you. Lead singer, Jonathon Davis. We've been through some of the same shit."

I'm afraid to know just what shit they've been through. Perhaps there's more to his problem than war-trauma. We both got quiet, listening to the shreiking, almost sounding like crying, coming from the speakers.

_Looking back I was never ever right_

_You were my step-mom who always wanted me out of your sight_

_I would come walkin' in and I 'd say hello,_

_but you slap me and you make some fucked up comment about my_

_clothes_

_But I tried to let it pass, but the visions in my head_

_were with you, with a knife up your ass, laying dead_

_so I pop some more caps in your ass,_

_Now your son is not so fun_

_Motherfucking bitch! Never try to play me!!!_

_All I wanna do!_

_is kill you..._

_All I wanna do!_

_is kill you..._

_All I wanna do!_

_Is kill you..._

_All I wanna do!_

_Is kill you..._

_**WISH! (Ha Ha...)**_

_**YOU!! (Ha...)**_

_**were DEAD! (Aahhh hah...)**_

_**NOW!!! (Ha ha...)**_

I feel like I should pull his and my attention away from the crashing angry music, but I'm strangely unable to pull myself away from the hypnotic music. I've never heard music like this before. I usually just listen to christian country, christian pop, but....

The next one started, after that, startling me. Flippy didn't even flinch, even seemed to be in a trance.

_Always, I'm locked in my head._

_No pain? You don't know what I have had..._

_By now, I'm so for sure._

_Right now, I am yours._

_My sorrow...._

_I swallow._

_Follow me...._

_Oh hell, no._

_It came unknown to me._

_Paranoid, it's controlling all of me_

_Somehow, but you're so pure._

_Right now, shit, I'm yours...._

_..._

_...Freak, _

_Punk ass sissy, I'm a_

_Freak, Punk ass sissy, I'm a_

_Freak, Punk ass sissy, I'm a_

_Freak, Punk ass sissy, I'm a_

_Freak, Punk ass sissy, I'm a_

_Freak, Punk ass sissy, I'm a_

_Freak, Punk ass sissy, I'm a _

_Freak...._

At the last part of the song, Flippy was singing along in a low voice, under his breath. I couldn't help smiling a little, although what it was that seemed to tickle me I coulnd't quite say, except perhaps that it was a little odd to see such a sweet looking bear sing such dirty lyrics.The next one starts, with a cold, empty, hollow, sad melodic rhythm, and I find out later that the name of the song is Kiss.

_Some deny and search for things that never come around_

_Do I feel like a fool?_

_The places I have ran to all my life have disappeared_

_And I owe this all to you_

_Why can't this kiss be true?_

_Why won't you please let me through?_

_I don't understand why you always push me away..._

_I feel the blood drip off my body_

_As it pours right there_

_On the Ground_

_What am I now?_

_What am I now?_

_What am I now?_

We sit in there for about three more hours, silent, listening to the KoRn cd, replaying over and over. i've never heard music I know this music isn't good for him, or me for that matter, but much like a drug, it is an illusion, the illusion of peace, of calmness, of pulling out all your concerns and dissipating them. But it felt good. It was an experience that changed me. This whole project is changing me. It worries me more and more, but at the same time, I feel my worries bother me less and less. I feel... more human than when I started this. I think I might take a few days off to get my thoughts and emotions in order. Can't be letting myself slip too far into this.

I glance over at him, and find him staring at me. We both glance away. I reach nervously for my cup of coffee at the same time he goes over to change cd's. I see now that they are burned cd's, probably by some illegal source, but I could, strangely, care less. I finish taking a sip of the drink, and hold the cup a bit longer, staring down into it, hesitant to put it down and have to find something to look at besides him. I feel comfortable with him, but I don't feel comfortable with myself, oddly.

Flippy clears his throat, coming back to sit on the edge of the couch, away from me, seeming nervous.

He jokes in a slightly shaking, but cheerful, voice, "S-so,other than KoRn and coffee, what brings you to my humble abode?"

I smile and say, " Well, I wanted to finish what we started yesterday."

He does a doubletake at me, his cheeks turning bright red, and asks nervously" ... Um... What did we do yesterday?"

Realizing that he did not remember, and that my wording was far too suggestive, I rush to assure him, " Oh, it was just, some- some tests, that kind of-"

Flippy breathed a sigh of relief, and murmured, " Oh, thank god..." Then he looked at me, apologetically, and glanced away in shame, murmuring darkly, " I'm sorry, whatever I did yesterday, I wasn't... wasn't in my right mind..."

When he turned back, he was struggling against tears, and I felt my heart break. He said, his voice now completely uneven, " You- you need to leave me be. There's no reason to put yourself in danger because of some guy you just met! You heard what he said, you know what the deal is!"

"But, Flippy, I-"

" You don't understand him! You don't know him, you don't know what he's capable of, what he can do to you..."

That set off an alarm bell in my head. Cautiously, I say, " Flippy? What all has he done to you?"

Flippy was looking away, and did not respond.

"Flippy?"

Quietly, gruffly, he said, "...I think you should go."

So I got up, thanked him for the coffee. He nodded his head without looking at me. I started out the door. Being around him was confusing. I could feel utterly at ease, and then feel like he had changed into another person entirely.

I left, with only a single backward glance at him, and saw him sitting, head in between knees, dry-sobbing, cigarette held loosely between fingers, and I turned away, biting my lip, biting back my own wet eyes.

..............................................................

Tonight, I dreamed of coming to Flippy's house, and hearing screaming. I came to the same room as last time, only this time, I couldn't get in, but I could still hear Flippy screaming.

I could hear him but couldn't help him.

I couldn't help him.

**Oi, all songs are by KoRn. And read the lyrics! I Know it's tempting to just skip past, but every song has at least one part that describes Flippy's feelings, either about Evil or Fifi. Usually about Evil. :P So read! :D **


	6. Chapter 6

Sorry about lack of reports, I've been dead awhile. First, I hadn't been to Flippy's in a few days, and then I went on day 18 to see how he was doing. This is what happened:

I came to his front door, everything seemed normal. I knocked, and he answered, although he had on sunglasses and seemed twitchy. It was my fault for not noticing, I should have realized instantly, but I thought he was simply high. He invited me in, his voice far more deep than was normal for him, and I came in with him. The house was darker than it had been before. I didn't notice. I turned to him with a joking smile, and was about to ask, " Where's the KoRn?" When his hand clamped over my mouth, sunglasses falling off to the side, and I saw his eyes - they glowed with jaundiced insanity.

I had never been this close to Evil before, at least, not when I was turned toward him. But the excitement, pure animal lust and primitive desire in his eyes, I felt my knees shake, and I completely lost the use of my body, feeling like a mouse to an eagle. I was paralyzed. My knees buckled, and I would have fallen if he didn't have such a tight hold on me. After a million years, or, pardon me, an instant, of us staring at each other, he flipped me around, holding one hand over my mouth, the other one holding a knife to my throat. He pulled his hand away, but I knew better than to scream.

He whispered in his shaky, exciteable, deep voice, " Why. Are. You. Here."

I struggled to whisper, but my voice kept rising and falling with hysteria," I- I just wanted to see Flippy, Flippy, that's all, I don't want to die, please God, don't hurt me, I just wanted to see how he was, I JUST WANTED TO SEE HOW HE-"

Evil slapped me hard, hissing, " SHUT UP, BITCH!"

I fell silent, looking up with now sober eyes, waiting.

Suddenly, he let go of me, but before I could move, something big hit me over the head.

* * *

A few hours later, I awake in what I think is darkness, until I realize there is pressure on my eyes. I'm blindfolded. There's tape over my mouth, and my hands are bound. Then I realize, someone is near me. In fact, I'm leaned up against them. We're leaning on each other to keep upright. I scream through my tape, and the person responds, although I can barely hear the muffled sound, I know it is Flippy. Evil is holding us hostage.

Suddenly, the blindfold is pulled from my face, and I see that we are in a dimly lit room, and Evil is staring right into my face, leaning in. I stare back, fear prominent in my eyes. I can't move or make a sound, once again. Finally, he goes over to Flippy, who I know see is not blindfolded. He pulls of his tape over his mouth. Flippy looks at him, rage rather than fear dominating his features.

"EVIL!" He roars. " LET HER GO!"

Evil laughs hysterically, his whole body twitching slightly, at Flippy's screams.

"What good do you think that will do, huh?" He cries gleefully. " Do you really think I'll be cry out, 'Oh, yes sir, of course!' Hahah, I'm not letting anyone go! I finally have someone innocent that I can play with, along with you!" He giggled like a child who has found a new toy, and I suppose that's what he was, really. I realize now that it was foolish for me to think he wanted us as hostages - no, he already had everything he wanted right here.

To him, it's all a game, like ripping the wings of an insect off, and watching it squirm, only on a much larger, more violent scale.

"Alrighty, batter up, Flippy! You wanna go first? Wait... then you'll be too far gone to really relish the sound of your little whore screaming. Okay, then let's start with you, shall we, my dear? What's your name?"

I stare at him. I don't say anything. I refuse to give in.

Suddenly, his grin melts into fury, and he screams, " ALRIGHT, BITCH, LET'S JUST DO IT THIS WAY!"

He grabs me by my hair and yanks me to my feet. I scream in pain through my tape, and then he remembers that he wanted to take it off. He rips it off painfully.

He leans into my face. " Okay, you little cunt. I'm going to do whatever I want to you, call you whatever I want, and put whatever I want inside of you. This isn't a movie, where the girl gets rescued and marries the prince, got it? You are going to bleed today, from every hole in your body, and some you don't even have yet, understand? And you're not going to _win_ by not talking, or being a little bitch. It'll only be worse." Suddenly he giggled, too loud, too high-pitched, thick with hysteria and insanity, cyring, " Isn't that right, Flippy? ISN'T THAT RIGHT!?" He was laughing uncontrollably, and practically screaming at Flippy. Terror replaced rage in Flippy's eyes, and they watered with helpless horror.

Suddenly, Evil's hand is at the back of my head, and he smashes my face down onto a table nearby, breaking my nose instantly. Already, blood begins to flow, and I scream in pain. He barks laughter, and does it a second time. I'm already getting dizzy and the world is swirling.

"EVIL! STOP! Please, please, PLEASE, STOP!" Shrieks Flippy.

"Never give up, never give up, never give up in the ARMY, you never give up, never give up, never give up in the ARMY, Join the army at seventeen, till you sware that you're a killing machine, three more rifles if they die, you got to do whatever the army says. Army life is killing me, me, me, Army life is killing me! Hahahah!"

Evil laughed hysterically at the finish of his little song, and Flippy and I glanced at each other with terror in our eyes.

He had really, truly, beyond a doubt, lost every ounce of sanity that ever could have pretended to exist in his little mind. And I couldn't help but feel like it was partially my fault. Obviously, he really hated me, the words, (_KiLl the CunT), _flashed through my head, but I wondered why it was that he was so-

Thu-THUD!

Evil suddenly threw me, actually picked up all of me and threw me across the room, and I hit the middle of the wall before I hit the ground. One of my teeth broke and I spit it out, laying, bleeding, trying to get my head on straight and think of a way out - but I felt exhausted, and I was in so much pain I could hardly think.

Suddenly, in the silence of the room, a sound took everyone's attention:

_Ring... Ring Ring.... Ring... Ring Ring Ring....._

It was my cell phone, the one I used to keep in contact with my higher-ups. We all stared at my fron pocket, which was glowing and ringing. Finally, the ringing stopped, and the worst possible scenario occured - it went to voice mail.

"Hello? Hello? Agent P.F.I?"

Flippy and Evil's eyes both widened, Evil in fury, Flippy in confusion. I recognized the voice, it was Mr. Jeremy, a British sounding fellow, the one who had given me a go-ahead for the mission in the first place.

"Agent P.F.I, you have been commanded to abort your mission, repeat, abort your mission. RTB as soon as-"

Evil suddenly jumped forward, a flying kick which ended in him just basically jumping on my pocket, smashing the cellphone, and my leg bone, instantly. I scream in pain, and in one swift movement, Evil pulls out a knife and points it directly at my throat, barely giving me time to pull my head back. The knife's shining tip only a breath away from ending my life, I simply lay, head pulled back to an almost impossible angle, barely daring to take breath.

" _AGENT_ PFI? Pfi, Fi-Fi, hmm, aren't you clever, you little bitch? What are you doing here? Why don't you just go back to your little office, stamp your little papers, hmm? Go on being self-righteous and loved, while military leaders like _me _are hated, despised, feared, met with protesters who don't understand a goddamn thing! And - wait, what is _that?_" He suddenly cries, and I realize he has found the tape recorder. Flippy gasps at it's sight when Evil pulls it out, and stares at me with a confused, hurt expression. Evil beats me on the face with the recoreder until it is nothing but pieces of twisted metal. My face is bleeding and gashes are all over me now. After that, I will paraphrase everything.

I remember that Flippy said not another word or sound the entire time the both of us were tortured. I had my fingernails ripped, my hair torn, my skin branded, and everything else under the sun. Worst of all, Evil raped both Flippy and myself. After he had had his fun, he got bored, and poured gasoline over our heads, setting us ablaze. We died that way, and I woke up today... whenever today is. I don't care anymore. I'm not going back to Washington, so I don't think I'm going to have to keep counting the days.

And... I think I'm falling I love. With a drug addict, a patient, a project, a murderer, a victim, a broken man, a child. I've fallen for the devil and an angel. He's everything I fear and I love everything about him. I'm far past the "In-too-deep" line. I've crossed that line, and now I'm looking ahead, to see where it leads me. I'm not going to turn any of this in, of course, I don't even know why i'm still writing it. I guess now it's more like a diary at this point.

I'm going to his house now, and I pray everything will be okay. When I get there, his house is dark.

I knock on the door, and there is a muffled, but authoritative, " Go... Away."

I wince. He took it hard. I try the door, but it's locked. Then, a louder, " Go... Away!" comes out of the house, but I hardly intend to just leave.

"Flippy?" I call. "Flippy, I'm coming in." With a snap of my wrist, I break the doorknob, and silently promise to pay for it later. I open the door slowly, and am met by only darkness. I walk and walk and walk, but I feel like I might as well be walking in space, because there is no sign of life or light anywhere, until I trip over a coffee table, and fall on my face. While I struggle to get up, somebody else trips over me, and lands on top of me. They're heavy, but soft, like a giant pillow just fell on me. I'm too tired to try to get up, so I just lay there, and for a moment, so do they. Then they get up, and grab me by the arm, pulling me up as well. They turn on a light, and, of course, it's Flippy. We sit down on opposite sides of his wrap-around couch. He stares at me levelly, his face full of anger, disapointment, betrayal, and bitterness.

"I guess I should have known." He says with a grim sigh. "What does PFI stand for?"

" Private Federal Investigator." I say, and Flippy simply nods his head.

At that, I feel suddenly like I must make him understand that he is not just a criminal in my book, not just a test subject.

"Flippy, please, it wasn't like that, I really do want to be with you! I really did enjoy sitting in here with you, listening to KoRn, and I-"

Flippy put up a tired hand. " I've had enough of your lies. Please, just... just leave."

Stubbornly, I shook my head, and cried in frustration, " You aren't listening to me! I... I think I might be in-"

"_Don't say that!" _He screamed. I look up at him in amazement. He is shaking, gritting his teeth. I can't see his expression.

Then he whispers, " Don't ever say that... I can't take it!" He shakes some more, his hands curled into fists. Feeling somber and sad, I get up, and sit beside him. He shies away, not wanting me to see his face. I take his chin in my hand, and pull him around to look at me. His tear-stained face is full of pain, bewilderment and hurt.

He whispers, " Why would you lie?"

Tears now fill my eyes, and I whisper, " I didn't want to. I regret it more than anything in the world."

He stares at me a moment longer, his hurt fading, and glances inconspicuously at my lips, the two of us leaning in imperceptibley closer.

He murmurs, " Did you really mean it?" At this moment, he seems even more like a child than he ever did before, and I feel a rush of affection for him. He already knows my answer, and we both scoot closer, tentatively leaning in, I close my eyes and our lips meet, at first brushing against each other, then parting and melting together.

His hands move around to my back, pulling me closer, and I put my arms around his neck, firmly keeping our bodies together. Heat shot through my body as our tongue's timidly met, then grew bolder and bolder. I gasped slightly into his mouth, pulling him closer to me. By now I was practically sitting on his lap. My hands ran through his hair, clutching slightly at his head, and his hands rested on my back.

Gently, he began to push me onto my back on the couch. I moaned, sliding my hands on his back, but suddenly, I felt his presence, as well as his warmth, leave, and when I opened my eyes, he was on the other side of the couch, turned away, picking up a cigarette and lighter. He sighed as he took the first drag, running a hand through his fur.

" We can't do this."

Feeling almost childish in my want for him, I weedled, " I want, no, I _need_ you!" I realized I wasn't being fair, but neither was any of this.

A shudder went through him, and he whispered almost imperceptibly, " _I need you too. _But, at the same time, I don't want you to suffer. He doesn't want this, and dammit, that makes me want it more. I don't know why he's afraid to let us be together..."

I crawled over to him, and sat on my knees, right behind him. I put a comforting hand on his shoulder, and he covered it with his own, squeezing it. I whisper to him, " Is it because Evil-"

"I don't want to talk about that." He said quickly, and we both knew what he meant - Evil had raped Flippy more than once, after all.

"But don't you just want to talk about it? It might make you feel better, why can't you just-"

"BECAUSE I'M ASHAMED!" He roared suddenly. " I can't because I'm ASHAMED!" He jerked his hands away from me, scooting away from me so fast I nearly lost my balance. He took his head in his hands, and groaned miserably into them, an awful noise that made my heart break at it's sound.

He was shaking his head angrily left and right, trying to banish some thought, and I run over to him, grabbing him around the shoulders, hugging him close to me. I hold on hard, despite his best efforts to throw me off. Finally, he stops resisting, and falls into my chest, clutching me tightly, dry-sobbing into me, making muted screams that sounded like he might be saying, " I can't take this anymore, I can't do this, I can't take him anymore, I just can't do it!"

Even I'm affected by the violent emotions pouring out of the green bear, and I'm trying to hold onto my own tears. _I must be strong for him._

Flippy murmured bitterly, in between hiccuping sobs, " That's bullshit...."

I realize I must have said the last part of my thought out loud, and blush slightly, but reply, " If I'm not, who will be?"

Flippy doesn't answer, just clutches me tighter, as if he were a drowning man clutching at a floating piece of wood. After a while, I notice that the crying has stopped, and he is still - he fell asleep. I'm feeling emotionally exhausted, and I fall back against the couch, holding the man I love, and fall deeply asleep.

**Aww! How adorable! In their sick, weird Htf way, they're adorable! Haha, alrighty, I shall begin chapter seven!**

**Btw, the song was "Army Life" by The Exploited. Youtube it, those lyrics are just the very beginning, and you will see that it sounds pretty Evil Flippy-ish. :D**

**Also, in case anyone hasn't noticed, I've been leaning into making Evil Flippy very Joker-esque. Just saying...**


	7. Chapter 7

The next morning, I had finally realized something. It wasn't going to work out. I love him, I really do, but we just aren't meant to be. I only hope that Flippy does find who he is meant to be with. I woke up laying beside him, and knew I never would again. For a few moments, I simply reveled in his presence, and then got up quietly, so as not to wake him, and hurried back to my apartment.

I changed into my business, agent-clothes from my undercover-casual, and grabbed a little black machine, so small it looks like a flashdrive. I figure I should get my hat, and put up my hair, but somehow, I don't want to be that formal, so I let my hair down, and hurry back to Flippy's quonset hut, and when I enter, I see him, as I have so many times before, sitting over the side of his couch, a cigarette in his hand. He glanced up at me, and almost didn't even seem surprised, just sad.

He stod up, and walked over to me. The two of us stared for a long time, saying nothing, not really needing to. Finally, Flippy said, " I don't know what you're planning to do, but I can see from your expression that I'm not going to like it. That's fine, I'm sick of it all, do what you will. But... Can I ask for one last kiss?"

My eyes welled up - I hadn't expected that. A tear escaped my eye as I leaned in, and we joined lips, the exchange of souls that most people only ever dreamed of. My body shook with the force of suppressed tears, and I could barely see him as I pulled the little black device out of my pocket. I saw him wince slightly, and close his eyes.

Hesitantly, he asked, " Will I ever see you again?"

I gasped as another sob shook me, and I replied bluntly, " I.... I don't know. If you do, you won't know who I am."

He nodded, his voice shaking huskily, and murmured, " I didn't think so. Before you do it, though, I have to know - What's your real name?"

I could hardly stand the waiting, and I kept wanting to scream, _No, nevermind! I can't do it!_ But I knew I couldn't do that. "Tris." I told him.

He thought about it for a moment, and smiled shakily, saying, " Alright then, Tris, do it. I love you, _so _much, so do it!"

Pain rose out of my chest, forcing a loud, pained sound to come out while tears streamed down my cheeks, and I almost was knocked to my knees. I finally shut my eyes hard, and shouted as I pressed the button, seeing a white light through my closed lids.

My eyes open, and so do his. Regret hits me like a ton of bricks in the face. My knees feel weak, and I can't stand to, but I make myself look into his eyes. They're calm, albeit a bit red and still watery, but he raises an eyebrow, and says calmly, " Uhhhm.... May I ask what you're doing in my house?"

I wince, and say, " I was just leaving."

He shrugs, and I start to walk away, when he says, his voice full of that sweet, unselfish concern, " Hey, why are you crying? What's wrong? Did I do something?"

I stop, still facing away from him, and suddenly, unable to restrain myself, I run back to him, and grab his hands.

I cry at him, " I know you don't remember me, and I can't take back what happened, but I'll always love you!" I close my lips over his and then turn again and run away, before he can react, and I hear him murmur to himself, confused, " ...Who...?"

**Four Years Later.**

I returned to Washington about a year after project V.E.I's failure, as I was forced to take a leave and recieve psychiatric treatment. I have taken a personal vow to never do another undercover project. I'm not cut out to be a sleeper agent, apparently. It's christmas time now, and I have been promoted a couple of times. Now, I'm a director of the United States Secret Service, and right now, I'm choreographing the president's bodygaurds for tonight's award ceremony. He's giving somebody some medal, or some kind of honour, anyway. I didn't really listen too well, so I can't remember.

" Director! Director! The guy who's getting an award is in the back room, can you take care of him for me? I have to be somewhere right now, and he still needs instruction."

I suck back a groan, smile, and say a tad distractadly, " Oh, sure, no problem." I hurry to the back room, and before I get to the door, I see misteltoe hanging from it. I stare at it for a second uneasily, and then shake my head. I keep staring at it, though, as I walk, and suddenly run smack into someone.

Instantly, I start to say, " Oh, I'm sorry, sir, I wasn't p-" I look up, and stop short. My mouth is still open with shock, and I stare at the person. It's him. It's him, and we're under misteltoe and he doesn't even know who I am. He simply looks somewhat surprised, but I can see something more in his eyes. His subconcious recognizes me and yearns for me, but his conciousness sees me as a stranger. Memories can never fully be lost, and that makes it worse, the knowledge that he is so close to knowing me, yet so far away. Tears well in my eyes, and I turn and run away, leaving him crying after me, " W-wait!"

I run into the bathroom, and sob, lean over the sink, gripping it for dear life, and sob and sob. I cry so hard I start to cough, gasping for breath. I finally catch my breath, and put my face in my hands, focusing on trying to breath slow and even. I whisper into my hands, " Why does it have to be so hard?" I finally start to really get myself under control, and look up into the mirror. For a split second, I imagine him there, looking into my eyes, and realized it's my own eyes, puffy and red, and start crying anew. I simply can't stand the memory of all that happened, it just kills me inside. I want to erase my own memory sometimes, but agents aren't allowed, no matter how traumatizing, because if they aren't strong enough to handle whatever has happened, they don't need to be agents in the first place. I would have to erase my memory all the way back to my original empolyment and quit my job.

I hear a footstep from behind, cautious, and spin around to face the intruder off, until I realize - it's him again. He's reaching toward me, confused, hesitant. He wants to help me and he also doesn't want to freak me out again. The two of us stare at each other for a moment like that, and suddenly I start laughing and can't stop. The absurdity of it all just hits me like a brick, and after a moment he gets a little silly smile himself.

Suddenly, we're both just laughing in the women's bathroom together, for no apparent reason. This moment... I wish it would last forever. For this fleeting moment, I don't have to think about all the things that are wrong with this. I can just laugh.

* * *

Flippy:

And then I saw it.

With this, I started the first day of my life. My real life. People are concious until a certain age, going through the motions of life, and then one experience truly wakes you up. Or, more specifically, I saw her. Puffy-eyed and red-faced from crying, looking like I was a ghost from the past, and we laughed together for no reason in the women's bathroom, and it was okay.

But at the same time, something felt strange, something was holding me back. It was almost like seeing a beautiful delicate flower, and reaching out to touch it's petal's, only to find that it was a picture. You merely lost yourself in the moment. Afterward you smile a little, feel silly, and brush it off, but you can't help that ever-nagging desire to go back and feel the silken petals, and to smell it's sweet aroma. The more it eludes you, the more hopelessly you are a slave to it.

* * *

Suddenly, my laughter trails off, and I look at Flippy sadly. He senses my stare, and his own laughter stops and he looks back at me. Although I know he doesn't quite understand, I see that he senses the impossibility of ever being with me. I see that still-remaining affection, even though it is dulled by confusion and uncertainty. I suddenly turn business like, thinking of the only way to make this end before it begins. I calculatingly tell him that I'm sorry for the confusion, that he must leave, and instruct him on where and when to do and say what at the ceremony. He looks disappointed for a moment, then nods his head and turns to leave.

I never saw him again.

...

This is Private Federal Investigator Zen, out.


End file.
